


Touch

by dgalerab



Series: Among Us [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutants, PTSD, Temporary Character Death, To Be Safe Because I Know Me, X-Men AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/pseuds/dgalerab
Summary: Kozume Kenma has a dangerous power that he's spent his whole life controlling. Unfortunately, someone else didn't.(ON HIATUS UNTIL THE END OF DECEMBER)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's BACK!
> 
> Oh man I'm so behind I don't have ANY buffer chapters, only plotholes. But uh... at least I think the plotholes are... gathered at the beginning so if I crawl my way through this I'll be fiiiiiiiiiine. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Kenma wakes to a gentle nudge on the shoulder, followed by some quiet flapping. He groans. “It’s the weekend,” he says.

“I know,” Koutarou whispers. “But Suga is here. Says he wants to talk to you.”

Kenma groans louder. “Fine,” he mutters, rolling out of bed. His bed is like a cat bed, slightly off the floor, overlooking the ridiculously large mattress where the other three sleep, tangled in Koutarou’s enormous wings. How they don’t all suffocate is beyond Kenma.

His clothes are under his bed, folded neatly into drawers, though most of the folding is Keiji’s doing. Sometimes Kenma folds his own things, but Keiji, somehow, finds folding laundry to be a calming experience. Kenma, of course, has the most clothes, since he’s constantly balancing heat and his need to cover every inch of his body.

The mattress is empty now, which is normal on the weekends. Kenma goes to bed around the same time Koutarou wakes up, and while Keiji likes to sleep in, he goes to bed hours before Kenma on most days. Tetsurou is the only one who sleeps later than Kenma after graveyard shifts, but his schedule has been almost human these past few weeks.

Kenma gets dressed, raking his hands through his hair to make it look almost orderly, and hurries out into the living room. Suga is in a snark match with Tetsurou, it seems, since they’re both right between grinning and sneering at each other about something or other. Kenma rolls his eyes and starts looking around the room for food.

“Kenma, make some real food for once,” Tetsurou whines as he sees Kenma rooting through the snack boxes.

“I hardly have an appetite in the morning,” Kenma says. “Why make food when I’m hardly going to eat?” He finds a box of crackers and pulls one out to nibble at it.

Tetsurou sighs. “I don’t even want to know what your nutritional deficiencies are.”

“Also, it’s nearly noon,” Keiji says, bag over his shoulder as he enters the room just to steal some of Kenma’s crackers. Kenma narrows his eyes at him, but it’s not as though he really cared much about the crackers.

Kenma hops on the counter and shakes some of the crackers into his hand. “What’d you want?” he asks Suga, scowling at him.

“Don’t be so annoyed with me,” Suga says. “Akaashi’s right, it’s nearly noon, and I only need a small favor.”

“Mhmm,” Kenma grumbles.

“I’m going to the library to get some work done,” Keiji interjects. He grins at Kenma all but wolfishly. “Have fun.”

Kenma sticks out a tongue covered in soggy crackers in retaliation. Keiji makes a face at him and kisses him on the cheek gingerly. Other than Koutarou, who is utterly forbidden from touching Kenma at all so that Kenma doesn’t sprout wings in the middle of their kitchen, Keiji is always the most cautious touching Kenma. Kenma appreciates it – it makes him feel less alone in remaining vigilant.

“So,” Kenma says. “A small favor, huh?”

Suga nods, faux innocence radiating off of him.

Kenma sighs. “Every time someone asks me for a favor it ends up being a situation.”

“Well,” Suga says, “there’s a first time for everything.”

**-X-**

“You know I have a job, right?” Kenma sighs. He’s already given up on getting out of this favor, but maybe if he keeps complaining he can get out of future favors. “I work on my own schedule, I have things to do on weekends too. You can’t just call me for everything.”

“Thanks for coming,” Suga says with a grin. “Anyway, I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t serious, you know that.”

“Last time you called me it was to lift the fridge,” Kenma says, leveling Suga with a dead look.

“There was a child under it!”

“There are other people with super strength.”

Suga glares at him for a moment. “Fine,” he says. “Anyway, this time it’s not something anyone else can do. Lev’s power seems to be malfunctioning and we need someone to try it out because…”

“... he’s not very smart,” Kenma finishes, nodding understandingly. “That makes sense.”

“You’re a mean person, you know that?” Suga asks, somewhere along the edge of fond as he leans against the door. “Anyway he says it ‘took him longer to teleport than usual’. Normally I wouldn’t worry about it, but with his genetic instability I just want to see if you feel anything off when using it.”

“Mhmm,”  Kenma murmurs, pushing past Suga into the house.

It’s been several months since they moved out, and Kenma’s heart still clenches whenever he thinks about it. Which is not to say that he’s not happy to be living with his boyfriends, because he _is_ , and after Tooru had moved out, Kenma had been slowly getting ready for it too, but the Institute has been his home since he was a child and it’s odd to feel like a guest. He’s not sure where to put his coat, so he just tosses it on the nearest couch.

“Lev!” Suga says. “Come on down!”

There’s a banging sound, and then several more, and then Lev is bounding straight over the couch, tail waving in the air as he skids in front of Kenma. “Kenma-san!” he cries. “Kenma-san, I think I’ve been getting lost while teleporting!”

“Getting… lost…?” Kenma murmurs, eying him.

“Hi, Kenma,” Yaku calls from the top of the stairs. “Thanks for coming.”

Kenma waves at him awkwardly. “What do you mean, you’re getting lost?” he asks Lev.

“I mean it feels like usually I’m here and then BAM!! And then I’m somewhere else, but now it’s like…” He holds up a hand to show the origin and then makes a squiggly motion with his other hand.

“Uh huh,” Kenma says, pulling off his glove. “Give me your hand.”

Lev doesn’t even hesitate, despite the fact that Kenma knows his powers are uncomfortable. He sets his fuzzy hand into Kenma’s and barely twitches as Kenma’s powers activate.

Even Tetsurou flinches more than this idiot.

In some ways, it’s a nice feeling. It’s almost like being able to touch normally. In other ways it’s terrifying, because what if Kenma touches him by accident and he doesn’t automatically pull away? Mostly, Kenma hates it. It’s just putting more responsibility on him while taunting him with what could be if Kenma was normal.

And lately, that insidious craving for touch has been looming over Kenma with ever increasing intensity.

He shoves it aside yet again and puts his glove back on and offers his hand. “Alright,” he says. “Together. To the other side of the room.”

Lev nods, slipping his hand into Kenma’s.

The rush of teleporting feels different, now, more like plunging into something else and then back out. There’s a putrid smell and a vague sensation of yellow and Kenma finds himself coughing and wheezing by the time they stumble into the corner of the room, as well as a feeling of incomprehensible unease.

Kenma shakes his head, quickly trying to catch his breath.

“Are you ok, Kenma-san?” Lev asks, bending down before him.

Kenma nods. “Lev,” he says. “Do you feel that?”

“What?”

Of course he doesn’t feel it. Lev’s as unobservant as a doorknob. “Lev, I think…” he starts, but before he can finish warning Lev against teleporting until they at least do some testing on his genetic makeup, Lev grabs his hand.

“Let’s try again, Kenma-san!” he cries, yanking Kenma back into that smell while Kenma impulsively tries to pull back.

With Lev pulling forward and Kenma pulling back, somehow they end up tumbling over where they stand. Except for the fact that where they stand isn’t where they _were_ standing, but rather a rocky, sandy slope in a strange, mustard colored fog.

They’re sliding before Kenma can comprehend the change, and he barely manages to catch Lev before the rock face they’re sitting on crumbles and plunges Lev into a gaping hole in the ground. He holds onto Lev with both arms, glancing around to find ground that looks a bit more stable before tossing them both down.

It seems to be some kind of cliff face, full of spiky, jagged rock. The air around them is thick, yellowish, like some kind of sulfurous steam rising from the cracks around them.

“Where are we?” Lev asks.

“If I had to guess,” Kenma says. “Wherever you go through to teleport. We must have gotten stuck in between.”

“Oh,” Lev says, leaping to his feet. “Then we just have to finish the jump!”

Kenma grabs him by the tail and yanks him back down. “Wait!” he snaps.

Lev blinks at him.

“Lev,” Kenma sighs. “Wait for me to finish saying things before you do stupid things, ok?”

“Oh,” Lev says. “Ok.”

“We’ve moved,” Kenma says, coughing slightly. “There’s no telling where we’d end up if we just tried to continue jumping.”

“I don’t think it works like that, Kenma-san,” Lev says. “I just have to imagine where I’m going and I go there.”

“And have you ever seen this place before?” Kenma says, pulling up his shirt over his face. He doesn’t know what this fog is, but maybe it’ll help. He wishes Tetsurou was here to tell him how good a gas mask a shirt makes.

“Well, no,” Lev says, as Kenma pulls his shirt up too.

“So it’s possible that being displaced here would throw off your teleportation, right?”

“Maybe,” Lev says. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly. We don’t know. We should be careful. We don’t want to end up in a wall.”

Lev sighs. “How else are we going to get out, though?”

Kenma groans. “Ok. How about we try to get higher up, above anything we might phase into.”

“Oh!” Lev cries. “That’s so smart, Kenma!”

Kenma rubs his hands over his face.

“Can’t you just fly us up?” Lev asks.

Kenma looks up into the swirling mass of fog. “Stay here,” he orders. “I’m going to check how the wind is up there.”

Lev nods as though he’s been given the world’s most important job, rather than all the responsibility of a three year old in a shopping mall with his mother. Kenma pushes up. A meter or two off the ground the wind isn’t bad, but for some reason it grows worse with every meter from there, and by the time he’s sure they’d be safely above just the first floor of the Institute, he can’t keep his balance at all.

He drops quickly, skidding along the sandy floor as he lands. Lev blinks at him from a stone’s throw away. “How is it?” he calls.

“Bad,” Kenma says. “Not sure I could even stay up with the both of us.”

“Ooooh, that is bad,” Lev says.

“Ok,” Kenma says. “Let’s see if there’s anything higher up around here.”

The yellow air is just about impossible to see through, so Kenma keeps his hand around Lev’s wrist. Getting separated would be very, very bad out here.

“Is that a thing?” Lev says, pointing.

Kenma squints into the hazy glow around them, and after a few moments he can make out a very large, black shape. Lev instinctively heads for it, but Kenma grabs him. For some reason, he wants to be sure it won’t move before they get near it. It doesn’t, so Kenma lets them creep a little closer, until they can make out a silhouette, a grayer mustard than the rest. It looks like a termite hill, easily forty or fifty meters up.

It’s perfect for what they’re planning, really. It’s not high enough that they’d have troubles with planes, but high enough they’d be well above the Institute and the surrounding trees, with enough wiggle room for Kenma to catch them.

Still, something about it creeps Kenma out. “Please be very, very quiet,” he asks Lev as they creep up to it.

Surprisingly, Lev only nods, already quiet without Kenma’s prompting. It’s hard to see, but his short fur is bristling all over his body. He slips his hand into Kenma’s as they step closer.

“Maybe you should fly us up it,” Lev whispers, clearly just as aware of the telltale crunch of rocks under their feet.

“Yeah,” Kenma whispers. “Maybe.”

They stand next to each other, side by side, both of them motionless.

From here, Kenma can see darker patches on the tower. It really does seem like an anthill, full of tunnels descending into it. Kenma doesn’t want to know what made those tunnels or if it’s still in there. “Maybe we should just use it’s wind shadow,” Kenma suggests, his voice nearly inaudible.

Lev nods slowly, but neither of them can take the first step.

“Ok,” Kenma says, finally, grabbing Lev tightly, making sure to keep his face hidden in Lev’s back so they don’t risk touching. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lev’s tail wraps gently around his leg as Kenma hauls them up, trying to keep behind the tower, out of the wind. As they rise, though, the tower gets thinner the wind grows stronger, making it hard to keep steady.

Even as they’re buffeted about by the wind, Kenma finds himself startled by the gust of wind that tosses them against the tower, slamming his elbow into the rock so hard he drops Lev before catching him quickly.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he slowly lifts Lev onto the wall. “Climb,” he mouths. There’s a tunnel opening just below them, and while Kenma’s leg is still dangling barely into the entrance, Lev is out of sight.

Kenma shudders. He hadn’t felt it until he’d thought it, but, yes, there is certainly something watching that foot. He tries to lift it slowly, so the motion won’t draw anything forward.

Lev peers down at him.

“Go,” Kenma mouths, more urgent this time. Lev might be able to teleport himself down, so long as they don’t repeat their tug of war mistake, so if push comes to shove he needs to be able to get out of here even if something comes at Kenma.

He drags the foot up so slowly it’s shaking, though that might be because the feeling of being watched is thickening, until Kenma can practically taste the presence of something inside those dark, dark tunnels. His foot is almost over the top of the ledge he’s holding onto, and the tension snaps. He leaps up to where Lev is in a panic.

Something drags him back down, wrapped firmly around his foot. He can’t see it, nor can he make sense of the feeling of it. It might be a hand or a vine-like growth or nothing at all, but it drags him back so hard the rock he grabs onto to keep himself put cracks.

Lev clatters down, grabbing his arm and with a rush of something odd, they’re elsewhere, falling.

“Shit!” Kenma blurts, snatching at Lev and making sure he’s below him, because the roof of the Institute is rushing up at them and Kenma can only slow them down so much before they crash straight through the roof.

Kenma rolls over, coughing and shoving aside rubble, coming face to face with one Miya Atsumu, sitting on his bed next to them with a raised eyebrow. “Rude,” he says.

“Fuck _off_ ,” Kenma tells him.

-X-

“Ok, how about no teleporting until we figure out what just happened?” Yaku says, smoothing a bandaid over Lev’s cheek.

“Ok,” Lev says, and though his lack of argument is strange, Kenma’s not surprised in the least. He doesn’t know what that was back there or why it shook him so bad, but he hopes he never sees it again. He hisses as Tetsurou presses gloved fingers against his bruised back.

“Maybe we can have you jumping small distances again. Once this heals,” Yaku says, his voice soothing.

“Yeah,” Lev says, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. After a moment, though, he smiles brightly. “Sounds good!”

Kenma wishes he shared that optimism.

-X-

“So I hear you crashed through Miya Atsumu’s roof,” Keiji says, sounding vaguely entertained as they sit down for dinner.

“Nearly broke his left shoulder, too,” Tetsurou mutters. He sounds less terrified at the thought of treating his boyfriends than when he’d first started practicing, but he’s been quiet and sullen and Kenma knows he’s going to need a fair bit of cuddling after dinner.

“Are you ok?” Koutarou asks.

Kenma stares at his food. Something feels very, very off. He can’t remember feeling this unsettled in… in a long time, but it’s oddly familiar. “Yeah,” he says.

The other three look at him with piercing looks.

“I just… back there… it was weird,” Kenma murmurs.

Keiji moves to clap him on the back before realizing his mistake and patting his arm. “Well, you’re back now.”

“Yeah,” Kenma says.

“How come you didn’t ask Ukai-san for a bit of a healing factor?” Keiji asks. “You look pretty sore.”

“I will,” Kenma sighs. “I just wasn’t feeling up for having someone else in… my head…” He drops his fork as he suddenly realizes why it was so familiar, his heart rate doubling at the thought. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushes to get his phone from where he’d dropped it on his bed, ignoring the whispers from his boyfriends and quickly dialing Tooru with shaking hands. He’s buzzing with nerves as he waits for the ringing.

Tooru doesn’t even bother saying hello. “ _Whaaaaaaaaaat?_ ” he whines.

“Are you okay?” Kenma blurts.

“ _No,_ ” Tooru says petulantly. “ _I’ve got an awful headache. Why?_ ”

“Just…” Kenma says. “I don’t know. I… you heard about today?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Tooru says. _“Tobio told me about it. Are_ you _alright?”_

“Look, I just… I felt something in that… wherever we were. And it reminded me of… you know what. You know, that… otherwordly feeling.”

“ _Oh no,_ ” Tooru says, though he only sounds cross. “ _No no. I swear to every god this world knows, if we’re dealing with another non-human, like… like you-know-what… I’m out. I’m erasing myself from everyone’s brain and moving to Hawaii with Iwa-chan_.”

“That’s fair,” Kenma says, smiling slightly. He’s not sure Tooru’s serious, or if that’s even a power he has, but he’s glad Tooru seems to be deciding to prioritizing himself for once.  “Have you felt anything off?”

Tooru is silent for a long while. “ _Well there is this headache_ ,” he mumbles.

“Did it start around one in the afternoon?” Kenma asks.

Tooru lets out a long, frustrated moan. “ _Of_ course _it did._ ”

Kenma sighs, rubbing at his temple. “Please be safe,” he whispers.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Tooru says. _“You too._ ”

After they hang up, Kenma sits in his bed, a nagging feeling rising in his gut, until Tetsurou comes to get him back at the dinner table.

_Please be nothing_ , Kenma pleads with the universe, but somehow he doubts the universe is listening.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with this story and I did not write buffer chapters. Gotta... get on that... yeah... (My life has been a mess for a month now. More of a mess than usual. You get me.)

Hajime has become so ridiculously attuned to Tooru’s moods that it takes him only a split second to notice the small pinching of his eyebrows when he comes home. “Oh no,” he says. “What is it this time?”

Tooru smiles tiredly, rubbing at his forehead. “Maybe nothing, but also you should be ready to abandon all our friends and family and flee the country at a moment’s notice.”

“I literally always am,” Hajime says. “I know you saw me pack an emergency bag.”

“Yes, I’m especially impressed by the fact that you got enough migraine medication for me for a year without getting us kicked off our insurance. You’re not part of a drug dealing ring, are you?” Tooru teases, wriggling his toes against Hajime’s side as Hajime slowly settles down beside him.

“How seriously should I take this?” Hajime asks, pulling Tooru close to kiss his head.

“I can’t know, yet,”  Tooru sighs. “Kenma and Lev went to some kind of alternate dimension and caught the attention of some kind of alternate dimension beast thing that Kenma says reminded him of the… that… and I have a _terrible_ headache. So… your guess is as good as mine.”

“Ah,” Hajime says. “Well, I can do something about the headache.”

Tooru smiles. “Ok. How much chaos will we tolerate before we move to Hawaii?”

Hajime sighs, standing up to get some painkillers and some water. “Anything more intense than the 1982 Poltergeist movie and we’re gone.”

Tooru makes a face at him. “So moving chairs? Hajime, I float chairs all the time.”

“I mean if anyone’s eaten by a closet or something, then you better get ready to convince some poor check-in desk lady that we have tickets and visas.”

Tooru sighs. “This is a horribly subjective scale. I thought we were scientists.”

“Sorry,” Hajime says, tossing Tooru the bottle of painkillers “I’ll add a chaos scale to my emergency plans on my next day off.”

Tooru snorts, taking one pill and grabbing the bottle of water Hajime tosses at him. “It’d be impossible to declare a baseline,” he says. “I’m a chaos source that fluctuates wildly, so the can never be a homogenous distribution of chaos around me.”

“You’re a nerd,” Hajime calls back, flicking off the kitchen light.

Tooru screams.

Hajime’s body moves impulsively while his mind is busy going blank with panic. He hasn’t ever heard Tooru scream like this; not the old Tooru when he was still screaming dramatically about every damn bug that came his way nor the new Tooru who screams in his sleep like his mind is being torn to shreds over and over in his nightmares.

He skids into the room, where Tooru is on his hands and knees, spitting the blood from his nose before he chokes on it. “No!” he screams, when Hajime gets to the door, throwing up a hand with such desperation that Hajime freezes even though every bone in his body is pleading with him to get to Tooru and shield him from whatever made him scream like that, from whatever put that kind of terror in Tooru’s eyes. “Don’t move! Don’t even think!”

Hajime doesn’t know how he could possibly not think while Tooru’s writhing on the floor like that, but practice takes over and he clears his mind while Tooru’s head drops, like he’s concentrating on something.

Hajime numbly watches his blood drip to the floor for what seems like a century, until slowly, Tooru’s hand changes position, reaching out for him instead of warning him away. “Not the Institute,” Tooru breathes as Hajime hurries to his side as quickly as possible, scooping him into his arms. “Just take me to Tetsu.”

“Tooru,” he croaks, helping Tooru stay up as he retches one last time. “What just happened?”

“I was a coward,” Tooru whispers, and then goes limp.

-X-

“So,” Keiji sighs, once the rest of them are done grilling Kenma on all the details of his entire day and what he’d been talking about on his phone. “You think it could have followed you here?”

Kenma shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know what it was, or where we were, or…”

“Ok, ok, relax,” Tetsurou says. “We’ve had weird times with our powers too, we’ve just got to let Lev practice this out a little and keep on our toes.”

Keiji scowls. “I don’t know if that’s true. I mean, yes, we’ve had… some strange times, but I don’t think I need to remind anyone that the Phoenix was the worst time. If this is anything like that…”

Tetsurou looks pale. Just Tooru’s ordeal had nearly broken him, if Kenma ends up at the center of something like that… Kenma sighs and takes his hand. “I’m sure it’s fine,” he tell Keiji. “Tetsurou’s right, we just have to be cautious and…”

Koutarou cocks his head, and a few moments later, there’s an awkward knock on the door, almost a thudding. “I got it,” he says, but Kenma catches his wrist.

“Let me,” he says. He is still the sturdiest of the four of them, and this doesn’t sound right. Koutarou seems to realize it as well, the odd nature of the knock, and drops back to let Kenma take the lead.

Kenma opens the door cautiously, then rushes forward when he sees Hajime, Tooru limp in his arms. “What happened?” he asks, stepping aside to let them in.

“I don’t know,” Hajime says, sounding panicked. “He started screaming, then… I don’t know, gods, but he said to bring him here so I did, so…”

Tetsurou is by his side in a flash, helping him with Tooru as they put him in the bedroom, laying him down carefully. Tetsurou leans over him, pulling his eyelids open and inspecting them. He shines the light on his phone into his eyes, then pulls back. “I think he just wore himself out. Did he do anything… you know, big?”

Hajime shrugs. “Not that I saw, but I mean… he’s a _telepath_.” He rubs his hands over his face. “Wait, he said… he said he was a coward. What does that mean?”

“Hold on,” Tetsurou says. “Maybe we should call the Professor. See if he can take a look at Tooru’s memories to figure out what he did.”

“Yeah,” Hajime says. “Hold on, I’ll come with you, try to tell him what I remember.”

Kenma blinks, but the door is already shut, leaving him in the room with Tooru alone. That doesn’t seem right at all. Hajime hardly ever leaves Tooru alone if he’s the least bit hurt…

He looks back at Tooru and nearly screams when he realizes his hand has been on his face, glove somehow in his other hand. He pulls back, flailing enough to land on his ass, and suddenly, he’s elsewhere.

There’s a river beside him and a massive, sprawling oak tree above him, thick and dense leaves glittering slightly in the ethereal light that reflects off the river. Everything else, though, outside of the river and the oak tree, has seen better days. There’s columns everywhere, overgrown with vines, some of them dead, some not, like the massive oak tree had been planted in the middle of ruins.

“Hi,” comes Tooru’s voice from somewhere above Kenma. “Sorry for mind controlling you into touching me. I know it must have been terrifying, but I needed to talk to you.”

“Where are we?” Kenma croaks. He doesn’t recognize any of this.

“In my head,” Tooru says.

“Where are _you_?” Kenma asks.

There’s a long pause. “In the tree,” Tooru says, carefully. “I’ll come down, just… don’t panic.”

“Why would I…” Kenma says, but then there’s rustling in the leaves, one of the branches bending down to help Tooru down like a gentle hand. Kenma stops short, hand flying up to cover his mouth before it drops open.

Tooru’s hair is perfect, of course, which is so very typical, but the rest of him looks… mangled. One side of his bloody, battered face slopes down like a stroke victim’s might, his hands and arms are bent at bad angles, like they’d been twisted into pretzels, shredding bone and muscle alike.

“I know,” Tooru says. “It’s worse than usual, I overdid it again.”

“Oh, gods, Tooru, I’m so sorry,” Kenma whispers.

Tooru tries to flap his hand, then quickly switches to the other one when he realizes it’s more intact. “I’m used to it. It’ll heal up more or less in a few days. Listen, when you wake up, tell Iwa-chan I’m fine and I’ll be awake in about a week, I just put a little too much work into erasing myself from the thingie’s mind.”

“Th-thingie?” Kenma manages.

“Yep,” Tooru says, sitting on a large root of the oak tree. He holds himself as casually as he does in the real world, like the fact that half his foot is missing hasn’t even occurred to him. “I sensed it after you called.”

“What is it?” Kenma asks.

“If I knew that, would I be calling it a thingie?” Tooru sighs. His voice is a rasp, barely audible, but his tone is classic Tooru. Maybe more so than real world Tooru. “But it’s like… remember Wakatoshi?”

Kenma blinks. “Ushijima?” Ushijima is over at his house nearly every week, helping stabilize tunnels to Fukurodani. He’s friends with Keiji and Koutarou and probably Tetsurou too at this point, though Kenma is going to take a good long time to forget what he’s done.

“Yes, yes, that’s what I meant, we’re absolutely not friends and we don’t ever text, how dare you, et-cet-er-a...” Tooru says, waving his slightly less bad hand. “I mean when he had all those people in his head and it was sort of going crazy?”

“Yes?”

“It’s like that,” Tooru says. “But so much more.”

Kenma frowns. “More?”

“Like… like a Youtube comments section crushed down into something as dense as a neutron star and then left in a strange hellish dimension for thousands of years.”

Kenma stares at him. “I literally have had nightmares about that, but go on.”

“Look,” Tooru says, leaning forward. “I brought you in here to tell you that you need to run. I can’t figure out what it wanted from you, because I’m not sure even it knows, but it remembers you and it will kill everyone near you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I… I meant to erase you from it’s mind,” Tooru says. “But I got scared. I set up a blindspot for me and Iwa-chan and… and then I sort of put myself in a _minor_ coma and I _may_ give myself an aneurysm if I try again.”

“Please don’t do that,” Kenma says weakly. “But what do you mean, run?”

“As fast as you can, as far as you can,” Tooru says.

“Did it see Lev?” Kenma asks.

Tooru thinks for a moment. “Ok. Grab Lev, _then_ run as far as you can. I’ll tell the others what’s going on when I wake up in about a week, oh, tell Iwa-chan that ok, and then we’ll…” He trails off, going rigid, and a small patch of grass bursts into flames near him. He recoils in terror, and Kenma leaps forward, stomping it out.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tooru says, voice shaking. “That happens when I panic. Anyway, new plan, don’t go near the Institute. Call Lev, get him to meet up with you and just… get as far away as you can. Don’t stop for anything, alright?”

“What’s happening at the Institute?”

“I’ll take care of it!” Tooru assures him. “Bump it up to two weeks though in your note, ok? But it’ll be fine, just go.”

“My note?”

“Yes,” Tooru says. “Leave out the window. The less anyone knows the better.”

“Why?” Kenma says.

“Because!” Tooru snaps. “Also, don’t go _anywhere_ that _anyone_ would expect you to go to, ok?”

“But…”

Tooru grabs his face, surprisingly strong for what looks like a walking corpse from a horror movie. “Promise me. Get out. Leave the country if you have to. When it’s safe, I’ll find a way to contact you.”

Kenma’s throat shuts with panic, but he nods.

“Promise!” Tooru demands.

“I promise,” Kenma blurts, heart thudding in his ears.

“Good,” Tooru says, and then Kenma’s jolting up from the floor of his own room.

He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he trusts Tooru’s judgement. If anyone is an expert of survival, it’s Tooru. He fishes his passport and wallet out from his drawers, throwing it and a few clothes into a backpack with his phone before opening up the window. He grabs Keiji’s notepad, quickly scrawling _i’m ok, tooru’s ok, he’ll be up in 2 weeks_ and flying out the window.

He calls Lev in the air. “Hey,” he says. “Where are you?”

“With Fukurodani,” Lev says. “Why?”

Kenma sighs. He’d hoped Lev could give him some context on why Tooru had warned him away from the Institute. “Just… teleport to the shopping mall across town, ok? Where I got you that scarf.”

“But that’s far away. Yaku-san said…”

“I know what he said, just do it!” Kenma snaps.

There’s a long silence, then a petulant, “Ok, Kenma-san.”

Kenma sighs in relief and makes his way to the shopping mall as fast as he can, grabbing Lev before he draws attention to himself where he’s trying to hide in a corner behind some bushes and into a dark corner. “Listen,” he says, grabbing Lev’s shoulders. “I have no idea what’s going on, but Tooru nearly killed himself and he told us to run, so just… bear with me.”

“Ok,” Lev says.

Kenma sighs. He’d expected, no, hoped for a little opposition, because an argument might clear his head a little. “Ok. Then… we’re heading for the nearest habor, ok?” He pulls his hood up and tightens the strings. “It might be our best way to get out of Japan if we need to.”

“Wait, are we fugitives now?” Lev whispers.

“Sure,” Kenma sighs. His mind is still buzzing and he can’t think this over and do what he needs to at once. He is dreadfully unsuited for multitasking, unlike Tooru, so he’ll have to trust Tooru for now. “Let’s go with that.”

-X-

It’s well into the early hours of the morning by the time they make it to one of the major ports nearby. Kenma finds a small shed to break into, snapping the lock off and shoving Lev inside before inspecting the area around them to make sure no one saw them.

He closes the door after himself. “Ok,” he says. “Ok, we’re just going to take a second to think.” He looks at Lev, tail flicking nervously. “I’m going to take a second to think,” he amends.

He collapses down onto a crate and sighs, slowly. “Gods,” he whispers. Tooru had told him to run, to get as far away as he could, but Kenma can’t flee the country without knowing what’s going on or why Tooru warned him away from the Institute. Surely there must be some way to find out a little more information before they do something crazy like leap onto a ship to Taiwan.

“Wait, why are we fugitives?” Lev asks.

“I don’t know,” Kenma says.

Lev blinks at him. “But like… we’re hiding from something?”

“Yeah,” Kenma breathes. “Whatever it was we saw back there, it… Tooru thinks it followed us back.”

Lev goes blissful silent, to Kenma’s surprise, but it makes Kenma’s hair stand on end. The fact that Lev knows to fear something means that it’s not just Kenma or Tooru being wary, it’s something… something very different.

“Ok, listen,” Kenma says, slowly. He’s been thinking a long while now and he hasn’t gotten further with it, and he needs to talk this out. The fact that the only person he can talk it out to is Lev is just an unfortunate turn of events.

However, he never makes it as far as talking it out, because suddenly he’s being thrown against the wall by something too fast for him to see.

Lev is by his side in an instant, and then across the room in another in a wreck of a crate.

Did the monster already find them? Kenma shakes his head as he hurries to stand up. No. There’s none of the innate horror as before. This must be something else.

That conclusion doesn’t help him much, because the second he’s on his feet he is quickly off his feet again. This happens one more time before Kenma decides to stay down and try to think.

The blur skids to a stop beside him. “Wait,” the guy contained in it says. His hair is in a blonde mohawk and he’s taller than Kenma by a few centimeters. “Are you giving up?”

Lev poofs on top of him and the guy slams him into a wall quickly before appearing in front of Kenma again. He’s not a teleporter, Kenma figures, he’s just insanely fast.

“I’m not going to get a hit in,” Kenma tells him, slowly getting up and shaking pieces of crate on him. “Just tell me what you want.”

“Come on,” the guy says. “At least, like, try to trick me or something.”

Kenma huffs, his hair fluttering in his breath. “Clearly you’re already expecting that,” he says, but he slides his hand behind his back to shrug it out of his glove. He just needs to get this guy to run into his hand and he’ll be able to keep up.

“Jeez, you really are lazy,” the guy says, and he vanishes so fast Kenma doesn’t have time to move his hand before he’s across the room again, but this time the guy is standing within range. Kenma will just have to distract him and then…

“Are you from the teleportation dimension?” Kenma asks, inching his hand closer. Maybe he can get at this guy’s ankle.

“The what?” the guy asks.

“The dimension we saw earlier,” Kenma says. “Yellow, foggy, smells like sulfur?”

“Uhhh, no,” the guy says, and Kenma’s hand is nearly to his foot before something wraps around it and pins it to the ground.

Kenma blinks. Wires?

A beam detaches itself from the roof with a rending, creaking sound, pinning him down to the floor.

“Taketora,” says a voice that Kenma recognizes, but can’t place. “I told you not to say close to him for longer than a second.”

“Huh?” says Taketora, noticing Kenma’s hand a breath away from his foot. “Oh.”

Kenma pushes against the beams, and they budge at first before pushing back even harder.

Lev watches from the corner, for once waiting for instruction from Kenma. “Who are you people?” he snaps.

A old man with a relatively kind face crouches down before him. “I’m an old friend of Ikkei’s.”

“The Professor?” Kenma says.

“You weren’t expecting that?” the man asks, smiling a little.

“No,” Kenma snaps. Being confined has never been something he likes. Too many days of being short and cute enough that people seem to think it’s alright to get in his space, press him back against walls and corners, when Kenma needs desperately to keep his distance. Granted, steel beams won’t get hurt by him, but he doesn’t like the feeling. “Why would I?”

The beams move out of the way.

“I see,” the man says. “In that case, I apologize.”

Kenma sits up quickly, putting more of a distance between him and the man.

“My name is Nekomata Yasufumi,” he says. “If you’ve heard anything of me, I doubt it has been good, but it’s been many decades since Ikkei and I last fought.”

There are rumors around the Institute about the early days, about rivalries that nearly ended in bloodshed, but no names tied to it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know any of your friends,” the man continues, “so I didn’t stop to ask them about you. But given what’s happened at that you ran off, and your powers, I didn’t want you to get away.”

“What’s happened?” Kenma growls.

Nekomata looks him up and down. “You really don’t know,” he sighs. “Ikkei is dead, and what killed him was identical to your power.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: I still can't say "on a boat" without thinking of the Lonely Island and I'm not here to embarrass myself with 2010 humor. I mean, clearly I am, but... I'm... not. Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late guys I have no clue what's going on in my life right now.
> 
> ALSO SUPER DUPER BIG THANKS TO FXVIXEN WHO RESCUED THIS CHAPTER WITH HER BARE. HANDS.

“He’s what?” Keiji says, numbly, staring at the table in front of them.

No one answers, but the answer lingers in the air nonetheless.

“This wasn’t Kenma,” Tetsurou says. It doesn’t particularly need to be said, but he says it all the same. There’s no answer this time either, but this time Tetsurou fills in the silence. “So what was it?” No answer. “Ushijima?”

Hajime, strangely enough, is the one to shake his head. “He wouldn’t,” he sighs. “I think it’s whatever Tooru felt earlier.”

“So Tooru’s the only one who knows what’s going on,” Tetsurou says, slowly pushing his chair back so he can stand and pace. “And he won’t be awake for another _two. Fucking. Weeks._ ”

Silence, again.

“So,” Tetsurou says. “What do we do? I mean, we have no idea what Tooru told Kenma, or even _how_ he told Kenma, we don’t have any idea where Kenma is, the Professor is dead, and whatever killed him is probably a telepath now, so _what_ exactly are we supposed to do now?”

A chair clatters as Keiji shoots up to go puke in the sink. Koutarou dashes after him to rub his back.

“I don’t know,” Hajime says. “We wait for Tooru to wake up, I guess.”

“Right,” Tetsurou mutters. “We wait.”

-X-

“I’m sorry I suspected you,” Nekomata says. “I had very little information to go on.”

Kenma sits on the edge of a crate. He doesn’t feel like he’s feeling grief, which means it’ll probably hit a lot harder a little later. “It’s fine,” he says. “My powers are dangerous, I know that.”

“Do you know of anyone else with the same powers?” Nekomata asks, squatting in front of him.

Kenma shakes his head, then cocks it to say, _sort of_. “He’s not really in the business of killing people anymore.”

“Anymore,” Nekomata says.

Kenma nods. “Trust me. I think… if anything it was whatever we brought back with us from Lev’s… wherever.” He glances at Lev, who is chatting with the Mohawk guy, fairly oblivious to what’s going on. He’s lucky. Kenma wishes he was too stupid to understand the weight of everything wrong with the world.

“Wherever?” Nekomata prompts.

“He teleports. It went wrong. We ended up somewhere else and…”

“I see,” Nekomata says, leaning back. “Oh, my.”

Kenma finally meets his eyes. They’re squinted shut, which Kenma isn’t sure how to feel about. On one hand, eye contact is unnecessary if it’s impossible, but on the other hand he can’t help but feel he should be trying anyway, even if it is impossible. “Oh my?” he asks.

“See,” Nekomata says, forming a chair for himself out of wire with surprising ease. “Mutants date back many, many centuries. Some of them live on in mythology. It’s not an easy job differentiating the stories from reality, but you can learn to find which legends are built upon truth.” He smirks. “Though having a few psychic-type mutants also helps.”

Kenma watches him, frowning.

“There is a legend of a beast that consumes souls, trapped in a different realm. A realm made of brimstone and home to a thousand demons.”

“Smelled like sulfur,” Kenma mumbles.

“And your friend there looks rather demonic to me.”

“He was engineered,” Kenma says.

“I’m aware. Ikkei and I used to meet regularly. But he’s a great deal more fearsome looking than anyone else engineered in those labs. Maybe he had a dormant gene hidden away in there.”

“So it’s a soul-eater,” Kenma says. “Tooru suggested it was… old.”

“Very,” Nekomata says. “A few thousand years. What else did Tooru-kun say?”

“That it knew me. That it was after me and it would go for my loved ones,” Kenma says.

“A fascination with a kindred spirit,” Nekomata says. “Same powers, but fresh and young.”

Kenma nods, staring at the side of the shed.

“With Ikkei’s powers, it will find you,” Nekomata says.

Kenma counts the rivets on the side of the wall.

Nekomata sighs. “I’d suggest you get out of its range.”

“And then what?” Kenma asks. “I’m leaving everyone I care about here, won’t it just…”

Nekomata shakes his head. “I have… had a telepathic bond with Ikkei. Before he died he sent me a few images. They weren’t very clear until we talked, but I think I understand what this creature is like, more or less.”

Kenma blinks at him.

“I think it wants to challenge you. It’s a split mind, true, but its focus is you. It cannot decide whether it wants to die or to kill the challenger, but it will challenge you, and when it does you must be ready. Until then, it will follow you, and you need to be far enough away that it will never know exactly where it is. It doesn’t have the presence of mind necessary to leverage your loved ones.”

Kenma stares.

“I know a man,” Nekomata says. “If anyone could help you master that pesky power of yours well enough to mount a defense, it’s him.”

“I see,” Kenma says.

“I’ll even help you get there,” Nekomata says. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Kenma mutters.

“Which is that you deliver to him what I originally found him for,” Nekomata says. “My granddaughter.”

It’s far too silent in this stupid shed. “Your granddaughter,” Kenma says, slowly.

“Her powers have been… troublesome,” Nekomata says. “I was hoping he could train her, and if you get there together, perhaps he can train you both.”

“Right,” Kenma says. He’s never liked escort missions.

“Tora will go with you too,” Nekomata says, pointing at Mohawk.

“No,” Kenma says.

Nekomata laughs, placing his hand on Kenma’s shoulder. “What other choices do you have?”

-X-

“I hate this,” Kenma mutters to Lev

“It’s kind of exciting,” Lev says, as he leans onto Kenma’s back to look around the corner they’re hiding behind.

Kenma twists his head back to glare at him, and Lev takes a step back.

Taketora swoops beside them, pushing in just as close as Lev did. Kenma grits his teeth and tries not to attempt smacking him.

“Alright. Here’s the plan,” he says. “I’m gonna take Akane onto that ship there.” He points, thrusting his exposed arm only centimeters from Kenma’s face. “One she gets a container open, I’ll grab you guys too.”

“Do _not_ …” Kenma starts, but Taketora is already gone. Kenma feels his eye twitch. “I hate him.”

“Why?” Lev asks, innocently. “He seems nice.”

“Lev?” Kenma says, trying to breath. Lev tilts his head patiently. “Shut up.”

-X-

“Tetsu?” Koutarou says, carefully, as he pushes the door in.

Tooru is in their bed with Hajime, still unconscious, guarding his secrets in that stupid, broken head of his. Tetsurou hopes Tooru can’t hear him. He’s been too bitter with him lately, but he can’t really help it. He rolls around in Kenma’s bed until he’s looking at Koutarou. “What?” he mumbles.

Koutarou settles beside him, draping a wing over him as he pats Tetsurou’s arm. “Keiji’s not doing great,” he says. “I think I’m gonna take him to his parents’ house?”

“Sure,” Tetsurou mumbles.

“You gonna be ok?” Koutarou asks. “Don’t wanna leave you alone, but…”

Tetsurou nods. Keiji’s been arguably worse than he is. It’s easy to forget nowadays that sharp-tongued, steady Keiji is the most fragile of all of them sometimes. It’s no surprise that losing the professor has crushed him back into that quiet, nervous thing he once was.

It’s probably best to have him somewhere comforting right now, rather than in Tetsurou’s gloom, Tooru’s usual cocktail of misery and the occasional bouts of funeral planning.

“I’ll be back once he’s settled, ok?” Koutarou says. “And you can call me! I even made sure my phone’s not on silent for once!”

Tetsurou forces a smile. “Thanks,” he says. To be honest, Keiji needs Koutarou more than Tetsurou does.

What Tetsurou needs is answers. Answers, and Kenma.

He sighs, glancing at Tooru, motionless and pale on the bed, and resigns himself to the wait. “You take care of Keiji,” Tetsurou says. “I’ll just… be here.”

“Ok,” Koutarou says softly, kissing Tetsurou softly. “Hang in there.”

“Can’t do much else,” Tetsurou sighs.

-X-

“They’re not so bad,” Lev says, while Kenma tries to burrow into the crate he’s leaning against. “Akane is really nice!”

“Fuck off,” Kenma mutters.

It’s been 57 hours on this stupid boat with Taketora, Lev, and Akane, and so far all Kenma is willing to say is that Lev is definitely the one he dislikes the _least_.

“He’s a grumpy guy, isn’t he?” Taketora mutters to Lev, because apparently that’s what he thinks is subtle, because, clearly, he’s a _moron_.

“Bite me!” Kenma snaps at him.

“Maybe I will!” Taketora snaps back.

Kenma pulls his hood over his face and rolls over.

“What’s his problem?” Taketora snaps.

“He doesn’t really like being punched,” Lev offers.

“Oh, just give him some time,” Akane says.

It’s official. Kenma is trapped on a ship, going who knows where for who knows how long, surrounded by idiots and one little girl. “Fuck,” he mutters, standing up. “I’m going to get some air.”

“Careful,” Taketora says. “If anyone sees you…”

“I’m not getting lectured on being careful by the guy who keeps getting nearly fried on my face,” Kenma snaps.

“I’m not going to get…” Taketora says with a scowl, but Kenma doesn’t let him finish before slamming open the container doors and leaving.

He leaps down easily, taking a breath to look around the cargo hold. It’s blissfully silent, and he takes a moment to stretch and wander a little, hands in his pockets. He wonders if there’s any containers of plastic wrap in here, so he can just vacuum wrap himself and lay there for the duration of this hellish trip. Leave one harmless hole for air and nothing else.

There’s voices behind one of the containers, and Kenma quickly hops on top of it, watching from above as two of the crew members walk between the crates.

“Anyway,” one of them says. “She’s not happy it’s a pitbull. Says they’re dangerous.”

“Ah, their reputation is worse than their bite…” the other says.

Kenma stares up at the ceiling. They’re talking about adopting a dog. Kenma can’t help but be jealous. It’s such a _normal_ concern. Simple. Kenma listens as long as he can. Guy one is trying to convince his mother not to worry. Guy two owns a Rottweiler.

Neither of them is worried about people they love dying, or it being their fault, or…

They’re well out of earshot now, so Kenma braves a small _fuck_ into the underbelly of the silent cargo hold. It feels almost like it should echo, but that echo was snatched out of the air by the sheer emptiness of the space between the containers.

Kenma doesn’t want to go back to the container. Doesn’t want to bear the worry of getting Akane wherever they’re going. Doesn’t want to deal with Taketora’s reckless disregard for the threat Kenma poses. Doesn’t want to deal with Lev’s… trust, or whatever it is about Lev that makes him antsy.

He pushes out a long breath.

What he wouldn’t give to be cuddling with Tetsurou right now. He’s been so frustrated lately, as all their workarounds keep piling up and still the craving for touch lingers, but right now even cuddling while wrapped in a sheet sounds better than anything.

“Fuck,” he tells the dusty, stale air in the cargo hold again.

-X-

“Kenma-san,” Lev says, poking his face with something. “Kenma-san. Wake up.”

Kenma groans, sitting up. “What?” he grumbles.

“Akane found a crate that had food in it,” Lev says. “So we’ve got all kinds of goodies!”

Kenma rubs at his eyes. “I thought we packed enough food to last the whole trip. Why are we stealing?”

“Because this is _good_ food,” Lev says.

“Right,” Kenma says, dragging his gloves over his face. It’s been forever since he slept in gloves, but he’s not risking it around these three. “Fine.”

“Come on, don’t be such a drag all the time. You like apple candy?” Taketora says, zooming beside him.

“ _Personal space_ ,” Kenma snaps. “I don’t have the kind of reaction time necessary to make sure you don’t fry yourself on my shoulder so you need to _stop testing fate_.”

“I’m not even close to touching you,” Taketora says. “Besides, you’re basically all covered up. You know what I think? I think you’ve got control issues.”

“My skin kills people,” Kenma growls, snatching the candy out of Taketora’s hand. “Of course I have control issues. Now back. Up.”

“Fine, fine,” Taketora grumbles, swooshing over a few centimeters. “You know, we’re probably going to be stuck together a while longer, we might as well be friends.”

“No,” Kenma says.

“Come on, stop pestering him,” Akane says. “You’re just making it worse.”

Correction. Akane and Lev are tied for least disliked. Taketora is several rungs below them.

-X-

“Yo,” Taketora says. “You hungry?”

“No,” Kenma mutters.

“Do you ever eat?” Taketora mutters.

Kenma groans, sitting up. “I ate this morning. Just because you’re _constantly_ hungry…”

“Ok, ok,” he grumbles, backing up. “Sheesh. You’re a cranky guy, aren’t you?”

“We’ve been in a _shipping container_ for _days_ ,” Kenma growls. “Someone I care about is already dead because of me, and I’ve had to abandon everyone else I love, and you’re getting on me for being _cranky_?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk,” Taketora says, stepping close, “you’d have some friends here!”

“Back up,” Kenma says, low and dangerous.

“For the last time,” Taketora says. “I’m fast enough to pull away from this dis--”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, because at that moment, the boat tilts alarmingly, throwing him into Kenma. There’s a flash of energy before Kenma manages to throw him away, but he lands on his ass, looking dazed.

“I _fucking_ told you!” Kenma shouts. The floor is tilting even further, and at this point it’s clearly not just a sharp turn.

The container creaks as it rolls dangerously, and Lev grabs onto Akane as they slide into the corner.

“Come on,” Kenma snaps, slapping Taketora on the head with a gloved hand as he rushes to grab Lev’s hand. Lev, fortunately, manages to hold onto Akane, and Kenma grabs them before the crate finally slides off of the one underneath it. Taketora makes a break for the entrance as Kenma flies the other two out.

“What’s going on?” Taketora says.

“It found us,” Kenma says.

If there’s one thing Kenma has never been, it’s fast, and right now, his brain is running easily five times its normal speed. He looks into the cargo hold, quickly registering the water filling into the lower corner. “We’ve got to get above deck. Akane, what were your powers again?”

“Manipulating probability fiel--” The boat lurches and she squeals, but Lev has an arm around her and a tail wrapped around Taketora to keep him steady.

“Can you make us lucky enough to get to shore on a shipping container?” Kenma asks.

“Probably?” she says, sounding deeply unsure.

“Good,” Kenma says. Probably is the best they’ve got right now. “Lev, get them above deck, I’ll push a container into the sea.”

“What about the crew?” Taketora asks.

“I’ll check on them,” Kenma says. “And we’ll get them onto the container as well.” He pushes off, relieved to find that his flight has sped up as well. It’s easy to punch through the deck, and he quickly finds one of the containers, snapping the clamps that hold it down and pushing it forward.

It grinds against the others, but it moves easily, helped along by the tilt of the boat, and Kenma can throw it into the water. He gestures at Lev, who is holding onto the railing with Taketora. “Go!” he cries.

Lev vanishes with Akane, collapsing in a heap on the container. Taketora follows them, leaping over. Kenma pushes them a bit further in case the ship collapses onto them while he’s gone, and swoops back to the cabin.

It’s tilted past 45 degrees at this point, and sinking faster with every second. He breaks the door down with one foot and pushes in. “Hello?” he cries. “Anyone here?”

There’s silence, and Kenma doesn’t have long to hope they’d just abandoned ship early, because one step into the cabin reveals two corpses. One is familiar, and in the half a moment Kenma sees it, he can only think of that dog, and hope it has someone to take care of it.

Kenma has only ever killed one person, and he doesn’t remember it very well, since he was barely conscious. But he sees now why someone would recognize the work by the corpses. They’re grey, drained, like they might crumble to dust at the slightest breeze.

He’s frozen by the sight, for a moment, before something moves behind the ship’s control panel.

“Shit,” he whispers, as the creature moves again, head slowly peeking over the panel.

It looks almost ghost like, a foggy quality to it, like it doesn’t quite remember where it ends and where the world begins, like a badly punched hole in the things that exist. It looks at him, and Kenma feels like it recognizes him - not so much as the person it had seen once, but as a being, as someone who can drain like it does.

Kenma bolts, back on the container in a blink of an eye.

“Shit,” he says again, his legs feeling like jelly as he collapses back onto the container. “ _Shit._ ”

“Where’s the crew?” Akane asks.

“Gone,” Kenma says. “Hang tight, I’m going to speed us up a little.” He plunges off the side of the container and pushes with all the strength and speed he has, desperate to get as much space between them and that creature as he can.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: Kenma doesn't need new friends and yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed because I forgot to finish this until the laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast possible second and there's only so much I can stumble into Hope's messages like "please help me tonight maybe."

“Is he awake yet?” Tetsurou asks, arms crossed.

Hajime’s posture is oddly defensive. “Listen,” he says, slow and measured.

“Don’t ‘listen’ me!” Tetsurou snaps. “He knows what happened with Kenma and the second he wakes up I’m gonna wring it out of him!”

“Look, I know you’re frustrated!” Hajime says. “But come on, I don’t think he had the energy to talk to you however he talked to Kenma! He’s in a fucking _coma_.”

Tetsurou’s hands come into fists and he can feel Koutarou hovering, trying to slide in between them gently to shroud them with comfort and stop everyone from hovering on the edge of yelling at each other, but at this point not even Koutarou’s warmth does much to keep Tetsurou from feeling like a tightly wound coil about to snap.

It’s been two weeks, just like Kenma’s note had said, and that vague, scrawled note has been the only thing he’s heard from Kenma since he vanished into the night. The only thing they could possibly connect to him is the fact that the Professor had been found dead in his study only an hour after Kenma had vanished, drained of all energy, but Tetsurou refuses to believe that has anything at all to do with Kenma.

Keiji has been a wreck ever since. Right now, he’s spending the night with his parents, and Koutarou has been bouncing between places, trying to keep Tetsurou from losing his mind and Keiji from collapsing. Tetsurou _should_ be trying to support them, not to mention everyone else at the Institute, but not knowing what’s going on with Kenma has made it _impossible_.

And of course, “Fuck,” is the first word Tooru says as he wakes up. “Kuroo, I’m going to send you to mediation classes because you are just the worst.”

Tetsurou startles, pushing past Hajime, a thousand questions cropping up in his head.

“KUROO,” Tooru snaps, wrenching his eyes open and squinting at him. “What did I _just say_.”

Tetsurou grits his teeth and sits down. “If you want me to stop thinking of questions then just… tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Hey,” Hajime interjects. “Don’t push him, he’s exhausted…”

“No,” Tooru says, lifting a hand and shifting a little so he’s almost sitting up. “I’m ok, mostly.”

“Mostly,” Hajime grumbles.

“I just overworked myself and my body doesn’t handle that well anymore,” Tooru sighs. “I’ll be ok now.”

Hajime huffs and crosses his arms.

“ _Kenma_ ,” Tetsurou reminds them, at the very edge of his rope. He just needs to know Kenma is alright.

“Yes,” Tooru says. “He’s fine. He’ll be out of my comfort range soon enough but I can still sense him somewhat.”

“Out of range?” Tetsurou blurts. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Tooru says, rubbing at his temples. “I could probably get more details, but I’d rather not so soon after knocking myself out for two weeks.”

“But…” Tetsurou blurts.

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you,” Tooru sighs. “There’s a mind reading monster after him, so it’s best if no one knows anything.”

“Wait, _what_ monster?” Tetsurou asks.

“Right,” Tooru says, sighing and rubbing his hands over his face. “Sorry. I’ll start from the beginning.” Tetsurou leans in, and he notices that Koutarou and Hajime are doing the same. “Kenma brought something over from that dimension he and Lev visited. It’s… it’s like him, but older and with… so many lives and powers that it doesn’t even feel human anymore.”

“And it’s after Kenma?” Tetsurou asks, hearing the shaking in his voice.

“I think it knows he’s like it,” Tooru says. “It… it was hard to get a read on. It was one being but with… thousands of mental voices… I don’t know how to describe it, but I’m sure it knew about Kenma.”

“So you blacked out trying to read it?” Hajime says.

Tooru shakes his head. “I set up a block in its… mind… minds. It has no idea about the two of us and it won’t be able to know about us in the future either. I… I didn’t have the chance to do the same for Kenma.”

“And the Professor?”

Tooru flinches. “Yeah. That was the other week. I warned him telepathically to set up another block for the Institute or at least the kids. I think he managed, but… he doesn’t have my power, even if he is more stable. I think by getting in its head he drew its attention to himself and…” He swallows, hard, blinking fast.

“It’s not your fault,” Tetsurou says, sighing. As much as he’s worried about Kenma, he can’t blame Tooru for thinking of himself first in this case. “So you warned Kenma away?”

Tooru nods. “I… I’m not entirely sure where the creature is, but the more distance he puts between himself and it, the better.”

“And what are we supposed to do while he does that?” Tetsurou asks.

“Well,”Tooru says, trying to swing himself out of bed. He manages to get as far as Hajime’s chest. He shakes his legs, unperturbed by the setback as he manages to stand shakily. “We’ll just have to figure out what this thing is and track him down once we know how to beat it.”

Hajime sighs. “Oh boy,” he mutters.

-X-

Kenma rolls off of the container and into the water, letting himself float for a moment before swimming to the front of the container to drag it forward until he can stand in the water and drag it along. He pulls it up to the shore and along the sand until the others can easily climb off of it and onto the beach.

He keeps walking without looking back. Vaguely he’s aware that they should find the nearest town and orient themselves, but right now he just wants to get away. From what, he’s not sure at all.

“Hey,” Taketora calls after him. “Where are you going?”

Kenma blearily flips him off.

Of course, it only takes a blink of an eye before Taketora is in front of him. He keeps walking, and Taketora stays in front of him, walking backwards easily at the pace Kenma can set. “Whoa, whoa, ok, we’re… either in Taiwan or somewhere in China… Do you even speak _any_ dialects of Chinese? You look like a crazy person, dude, where are you going to…”

Kenma pushes off the ground and flies upward, but Taketora grabs his leg before he can go far. Kenma’s blood boils at the touch and he drops hard enough to punch a hole in the ground, sending Taketora sprawling as well. He pulls his hand away, quickly throwing up his hands in a peacemaking gesture. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry, ok? I messed up back there, but come on. We can’t just…”

“Look,” Kenma says, voice shaking. “My entire life has been about avoiding _killing people_ , and right now, the number of people dead because of me is rocketing. So I don’t really _care_. Not about you, not about a _plan_...”

“Ok, yeah,” Taketora says, standing quickly before Kenma can start walking again. “I get that, but if you walk into some random town looking like a crazy person and babbling in Japanese, then that thing is gonna know. It can read minds, remember?”

“No,” Kenma says, and he doesn’t mean to make it sound dry, but he’s too tired for inflections. “I forgot that it ate the living soul of my mentor of more than a decade.”

“Look,” Taketora says. “We gotta be smart about this.”

Kenma stares at him, then back at Lev. “Good luck with that,” he says, collapsing into the sand. He’s too tired to walk. He’s been exhausted for most of his life, constantly guarding the world from himself, but apparently it’s even more exhausting to have killed people. While that’s encouraging for his life choices thus far, it’s not much of a bright side at the moment.

“I’m just going to pop in to the nearest town, figure out where we are and where we could stay, and then I’ll be back.”

Kenma collapses back onto the rocks. “Sure,” he says. “You do that.”

-X-

Taketora returns after about an hour. “Ok,” he says. “So we’re about 100 kilometers from Fuzou,” he says. “I’m thinking we should find a place to stay where we can eat and drink and shower, and then figure out where we’re going next.”

“Uhuh,” Kenma says, not lifting his head.

Taketora sighs. “Ok. Why not find a hotel and we can talk about how to hide from there.”

“I can make sure we find an empty room, if Lev can teleport us in,” Akane says. She looks exhausted, but she seems to have found a place to rest her head by climbing onto Lev’s back and hooking her chin over his shoulder.

“Yeah! If I know where the room is, I can get Kenma-san there too,” Lev says. “He looks like he’s not gonna move by himself.”

Though it’s petty and unnecessary, Kenma flips him off just for good measure. He has every right to lay here and not do anything.

“I think we should wait for dark,” Taketora says. “Then I’ll get Akane there, stash her behind a hotel, she can set everything up, and then I’ll get Lev there, and Lev will come back for Kenma.”

“Sounds good!” Lev chirps. “Kenma-san, what do you think?”

“I don’t care,” Kenma grumbles.

“Is he always like this?” Taketora asks.

“A little,” Lev replies.

“Oh, come on, give him a break. We’re all tired,” Akane interjects.

Kenma rolls over onto his side and pulls his hood over his head, blocking everything out. He can’t manage to sleep, but he does manage to find a small leaf stuck in the rocks to focus on as the breeze shoves it back and forth in a dull pattern.

“Kenma-san,” Lev says, barely dragging him back to reality.

“What?” Kenma mumbles.

“Come on. A shower will help,” Lev says, offering his hand.

Things must be bad if Lev is actually being thoughtful and offering good advice. Tetsurou would be disappointed in him right now. Kenma sits, trying to ignore the pang in his chest from thinking of Tetsurou. He feels heavy and stiff, but he takes Lev’s hand, and soon he’s in a hotel room.

It’s decent enough, slightly dark, likely to keep the light from shining through the curtains and alerting anyone to their presence. There’s two beds. Taketora and Akane are sitting on one, eating from a pile of snacks. Taketora offers him a box of cookies.

Kenma sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. Everything stings with sticky, sticky salt and his hair feels like a rug. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Sure,” Taketora says, but Kenma’s already closing the door behind him, quickly stripping off his sticky, crusty clothes and turning on the shower.

Most the shower is just untangling his hair, and he’s tempted to just cut it off, but that’s a bit too much change on top of everything else going on, so he sits on the shower floor and works at the knots well after the hot water is gone. At least the cold water wakes him up a little.

Taketora knocks on the door and Kenma bites back a string of curses.

“Hey, grabbed some clothes for ya,” he says. “For tonight, at least.”

Tetsurou would no doubt try to get Kenma to befriend Taketora, but Tetsurou isn’t here right now, so he can’t wheedle anything out of Kenma. Still, Kenma isn’t an animal. “Fine,” he sighs. “Just toss them in.”

He has plenty of reasons not to want to be naked in front of anyone, and even the cracked door has him on edge right now. Taketora, thankfully, has the foresight to shut the door once he’s tossed the clothes in.

Kenma picks them up with a grimace. They’re clearly what Taketora could get his hands on the fastest and without arousing suspicion, a ratty old Henley and a pair of pyjama pants with little bears on them, likely both from a used clothing store somewhere in the neighborhood.

The shirt doesn’t have a hood and there’s no gloves, but Kenma can make do so long as everyone else keeps their space. He thinks Taketora learned his lesson, and Lev is… average at keeping the personal space rule. Akane has been polite about it from the start.

Tetsurou would no doubt insist that Kenma try to bond with her, ask her how her powers work and why her grandfather seemed to think they were in the same boat.

But Tetsurou is _still_ not here.

He gets dressed and goes outside, extending his hand silently for the previously offered cookies. Taketora tosses them at him.

“So I was just telling the others that I think we should get disguises,” Taketora says. “Yeah? I’ll get a fake beard, and we’ll make Akane look like a boy,” Akane makes a face at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice, “and… Kenma, you could pass for a woman probably.”

“I’m as much a woman as you are a person who knows when to shut the fuck up,” Kenma grumbles.

“Oh, come on, I’m not trying to be weird about it, I’m just _saying_ , if anyone’s looking for us, they won’t be looking for a lady and a little boy and… Well, I don’t know what Lev could be… Maybe a Muslim lady? Do you think he’s too tall for it or could we sell it with a burqa?”

Kenma stands up, chair clattering with the motion, and tosses his bowl into the sink.

Taketora swoops in front of him before he can get to the bed, hide under the covers and pretend not to exist. Kenma sighs, but he knows he can’t push past Taketora. “Whoa, whoa,” Taketora says. “Look, I don’t mean to piss you off, alright? I know you’re still mad about the touching and all…”

“I’m not mad,” Kenma says. “I just don’t want to be friends with you. I already have more friends than I can handle. I just want all of this to be over, and preferably to never see you again.”

Taketora pauses, suddenly unsure what to say.

“It’s nothing personal,” Kenma says. “True, your personality is… grating, and you’ve unintentionally stumbled into just about _every_ way to make me _deeply_ uncomfortable, but the fact is, _my skin kills people_. It’s exhausting to get close to people, and I am running on fumes.” He shrugs. This is probably the most he’s spoken in one go for years, but if it means Taketora might finally leave him alone, it will be worth it. “So let’s just… keep it to what we need to stay alive, and that’s that. Now, I really, really need some fucking sleep, and tomorrow we can discuss how Lev and I look in burqas. Good night.”

Taketora finally lets him shove past, and Kenma yanks the blankets from the nearest bed so he can sleep on the floor. Fortunately this time he’s tired enough to fall asleep on the covers the second he lays down his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Oh god jesus I don't know but SOMEONE'S gonna steal a car and Kenma may wear a skirt and be just... just the angriest person in all of China.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be weekly at best and every 2 weeks at worst!


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